


Business Class

by GaryTheFish



Series: Hope is a Four Letter Word [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:45:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7158011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaryTheFish/pseuds/GaryTheFish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Loki discovers business class, and Kindle's got a question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Business Class

**Author's Note:**

> As promised, here we go! <3

Penn Station was crowded, but Aeslin led him through the maze of displays and people as though she’d been doing it all her life, and it was only the work of a few moments until they had tickets and were safely ensconced in the lounge. Loki leaned against the cushions with one arm stretched along the back of the small couch, and she tucked herself against his side as she pulled her phone from her pocket. It was only a temporary one; she had mentioned that they could both get new ones over the next few days, since theirs had disappeared along with almost everything else when the Warehouse fell. After a moment’s thought, she dialed a number from memory as she absently shifted even closer. He gave no sign that he noticed; she’d been doing it unconsciously since just after the memorial service, like a wild creature that craved the warmth of firelight but would only come closer if unobserved. Loki left his eyes closed for the few minutes before the train would board and let her voice hum through him.

He awoke to the feeling of her hand combing through the hair along his temple. He smiled, eyes still closed. “I could get used to this,” he told her.

“Probably shouldn’t,” she replied. “Train’s boarding.”

Loki made a slight face as he opened his eyes. “Pity.”

They were settled in their seats, New York dwindling in the background, before she spoke again. He had been looking past her out the window, watching the scenery pass by. He hadn’t realized that he hadn’t seen any of this; he had been to Washington, DC and to New York both, but the land between the two was a mystery to him. She pulled her legs up, arms around her shins as she stared out the window as well. Turning away, she looked at him curiously.

“What are we?”

He picked idly through his fruit cup, chasing the last berries to the bottom. “We just are,” he answered with half a shrug. “Doesn’t need a label.”

That earned him a gentle chuckle. “You do realize you’re talking to me, right?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, “but I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Archaeology,” she answered. “Do you know what I did for the last semester of my undergrad? I worked in a lab. _Labeling_ things. It’s all I did, five hours a day. Artifacts, tools, bags of dirt. All of it.” He blinked at her, and she responded with a sheepish grin. “ _Every_ thing gets labeled,” she said. “It’s sort of a thing. So humor me.”

“I can’t speak for you,” he said. “I can only tell you what I think. You’ll have to make your own determinations and see if they match. So what are you to me? The same things you’ve always been. Advocate. Teacher. Student. Colleague.” His face took on a sort of grin. “Fellow warrior. Sister of battle. Ally. Friend.” His voice might have hitched on the last one, but she gave no indication that she noticed, and so he went on. “I just happen to be in love with you. To _love_ you. That’s all.”

Her lip quirked, and he answered with a patient sigh. “It’s not unheard of,” he said. “It happens all the time.” He stretched out his legs as best he could and leaned back, eyes closed. “In fact,” he went on,” I’ve got four examples in your own circle, right off the top of my head. Don’t even have to think about it. Would have been an easy five, but _you_ forced my hand.”

She grinned, took a sip of her drink and put it back down. “All right,” she admitted. “I’ll bite.”

“If you must,” he replied lazily, “but I’ll have you know it does nothing for me.” A slow smile; he let her silence go on just long enough, and then he held up one finger at a time. “Banner. Hill. Barton.”

There was a small pause. “That was only three.”

“Mmhmm,” he agreed. “Nothing for the last one. I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Pain of death and all that. It’s beyond precious, though; I’ll tell you at least that much.”

A gentle snort. “Figures.”

Loki opened his eyes. “Well then. Both answers enough for you?”

Her face was thoughtful as she ran a thumb across the knee of her jeans. She didn’t meet his eyes, and Loki watched her curiously.

“Can I still kiss you?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t you?” he replied, trying and failing to keep a bit of surprise from his voice.

A shrug. “Well, if we’re friends, allies, and whatever else right now...  I just don’t want it to be weird.”

He couldn’t help a laugh. “I told you I loved you on a flying aircraft carrier, on the eve of an alien invasion and mere hours after we talked ourselves onto a team of fairly dysfunctional superhumans.”

“And?”

“It’s already _weird_ , Kindlesdaughter,” he said, “so you may as well.” He gave a casual shrug. “Besides, it seems to cheer you up, and I would hate to deny you anything that might bring you happiness right now.” He smiled crookedly. “Not to mention we’re _quite_ good at it. It seems a shame to let talent like ours go to waste.”

She blushed just a little, and he allowed himself to be briefly distracted by the flush along her collarbone before meeting her eyes once more. “But be aware, little one. Yours isn’t the only heart on this train with which I’m concerned. I’m not a god. I’m not a man, and I am _not_ a saint.” He trailed his finger along her cheek. “We’re in no position to take things any further yet, so just… be kind.”  

Aeslin nodded, slipping her hand over his and turning her face to brush her lips across his palm. He could feel her smile against his skin. “You know what’s going to happen now, right?” she asked, and he grinned as he stroked his thumb across her bottom lip.

“Not entirely,” he admitted. “But I’ve got a pretty good idea.”


End file.
